


OBSESSION

by P5soleilnoir



Series: Goro Week 2019 [2]
Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Dark, Descriptions of Corpses, During Canon, Gen, Goro Week 2019, Horror Elements, Insanity, Possession, p5soleilnoir
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 03:15:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20771621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/P5soleilnoir/pseuds/P5soleilnoir
Summary: As he observes his corpse, Cognitive Goro ponders about his final victim.





	OBSESSION

**Author's Note:**

> Here is Day 2 of Goro Week with Angst, Justice, and Mask! It's been a while since I wrote about Cognitive Goro and I absolutely wanted to integrate him into Goro Week somehow. This fic is the result of it.

Akechi Goro was dead.  
  
The corpse was akin to a crumpled heap of limbs, a bit like a discarded puppet after having its strings cut. A puddle of blood was slowly expanding beneath the frame, staining the skintight suit into a shade darker than black. One of the eyes was still hidden behind the half-broken visor, but the other was exposed for anyone to see: a glassy, wide open sphere that would see no more. All in all, he looked terrible, even as far as broken corpses went.  
  
“Ah… I guess I should say ‘it,’ should I.”  
  
A big, gushing wound was exposed on the body’s side, blood dripping from where the bullet had hit; more of it was still pouring bead by bead out of its mouth. The sight was truly disgraceful, but he supposed this might not matter much once you were dead. The living were the ones who would have to deal with it, after all – the dead didn’t care.  
  
Slowly, the cognitive version of Akechi Goro born from Shidou Masayoshi’s mind approached the corpse.  
  
His stride was regular and well-paced, almost nonchalant. It was difficult to believe he just killed someone with his own hands, and this was something he was proud of – because the greatest killers were those who never blinked, never recoiled, never flinched. For this dead body, like all the others, he felt no remorse. To him, it was nothing more than a piece of flesh, as mundane as the meat hanging behind a butcher’s counter. Even if that meat wore his own face.  
  
Standing tall over the corpse, the entity stared, putting his firearm away all the while. Judging from how the pool of blood grew larger no more, it seemed the bleeding had stopped. The metallic smell of it was strong, but not especially unpleasant to the senses; not yet, at least. By the time it would, the entity would be gone, anyway.  
  
With this thought in mind, he let his gaze fall down on the corpse’s face. The visible skin, already a couple of shades whiter than a few minutes before, was covered in scrapes and scratches, with a noticeable cut upon the cheekbone. But what intrigued the entity the most was the visor it wore – apparently made of glass or some kind of similar material, cracks ran along its surface, culminating into the missing chunk. According to what he observed during the fight that shook the room earlier, this mask was the source of the corpse’s power: tearing the mask off its face allowed it to summon a sort of demon that would obey its every command.  
  
For the first time, something other than utter nothingness stole over the entity’s features. It took him a moment to realize his slightly wider eyes translated a look of curiosity.  
  
Gingerly, he bent down and extended a hand, letting it hang in the air for a couple of seconds before grabbing the mask and removing it. Nothing happened.  
  
Then again, he didn’t know what he was expecting.  
  
Standing straight again, the entity held the mask in both hands and fixed it at length, then flipped it over. It didn’t look anything out of the ordinary. He raised an intrigued brow – then fit it upon his face.  
  
…There was no surge of power rushing through his veins. No violent gust of air to blow into his hair, not even sparks jolting out of the mask. Absolutely nothing.  
  
It was a bit disappointing.  
  
“Ahh… How boring.”  
  
With a weary sigh, the entity removed the mask and began to twirl it in his hands, trying to keep himself busy. In the end, it was but a useless object; mere garbage ready to be tossed in the trash can.  
  
To think this worthless piece of glass had been the very symbol of twisted justice Akechi Goro kept parading around.  
  
_“I’ll take responsibility for Shidou Masayoshi and thrust him into a living hell.”_  
  
The entity snickered. This was way too funny.  
  
Who in the world did he think he was, some kind of vigilante? Weren’t human beings taught not to take the law into their own hands at a very early age with this mantra following them into their later lives?  
  
That was no justice. It was a mere dumb, stupid, brainless thirst for vengeance. Human beings were foolish like that.  
  
The entity glanced at the corpse again, finding it all a terrible waste. Akechi Goro had no idea how easy and nice he could have had it. There was nothing wrong with being a puppet, nothing wrong with having one’s life dictated and ruled by a superior being. He simply should have made peace with this fact and embrace it and pledge his full allegiance to the captain but no – he had to try and overstep his boundaries, he had to enforce some ridiculous self-righteous obsession with revenge, which he had had the nerve to brandish in the name of justice itself.  
  
And now, this sweet obsession sustaining his purpose in life was the one to cause his downfall and ultimate death. Funny how things could turn out.  
  
Looking back on the corpse’s garments, even they proved just how much of a fraud their owner had been. For a so-called hero fighting for his own justice, the entire vibe it gave off sure seemed closer to a full-fledged villain’s.  
  
The entity stood there for a moment, his empty eyes reflecting the collapsed frame on the floor. Then, he tossed the cracked mask aside, like one would nonchalantly throw a piece of trash into the garbage can. A shattering sound rang out, eliciting a single blink out of him.  
  
“Oops… Looks like I threw it too hard.”  
  
With this, the entity turned around and paced toward the exit, never looking back. Unreadable as his expression was, it would be wrong to say he wasn’t experiencing any emotions in that one moment. He was certainly eager to return to the captain's side and—  
  
_kill_  
  
—tell him. About his job being complete, although there was also this group of pesky rats to take care of… They could prove themselves troublesome if not handled immediately, especially since they already had the nerve to escape. If there was one capital offense in his eyes, it certainly was a target that made his job more difficult than it needed to be…  
  
Reporting to the captain, however, came first. The entity moved on with a spring to his step, already fantasizing about the way the captain would receive the news – he couldn’t wait to see the satisfaction overflow through his features, perhaps even a hint of pride—  
  
_who cared anymore about settling with condemning him to live the rest of his life in disgrace, that wasn’t enough, that wasn’t_  
  
—within his eyes, the sort reserved only for his most faithful and devoted servant. He wanted to hear those intoxicating words of praise, wanted to—  
  
_crush him, to destroy him, all he wanted was to plunge a knife into his heart and stab him once, twice, three times_  
  
—wallow in the knowledge that he was useful to the one person he held dear. It was with this hope filling the empty hole where his heart should be that the entity strode across the ship and at last, reached his destination. He knocked at the door to the captain’s quarters, feeling something inside him somersault at the sound of that muffled voice.  
  
“Come in.”  
  
The captain was inviting him in. He was inviting his most faithful servant in, as though about to welcome him warmly, as though—  
  
_ready to die, ready to finally disappear, this is it, this is the end_  
  
—the distance between them was finally gone. And this was something the entity truly cherished.  
  
…If his mind hadn’t been clouded by the dozens of sweet scenarios flashing vividly all over, he might have noticed it. He might have noticed the large grin splitting his lips, alongside the mark of insanity etched along his wide open eyes. The knife in his hand felt light, so much more than a gun, itching to strike, yearning to exact this obsession at last.  
  
Because justice was always right. And justice was about to be done.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Take a look at [my Twitter account](https://twitter.com/p5soleilnoir) if you're interested in my fanfic updates, sneak peeks of future stories, chatting with me, or otherwise seeing 99% of Goro pictures and content!
> 
> [My profile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/P5soleilnoir/profile) is regularly updated in accordance with my current and future projects, so feel free to check it out every now and then!


End file.
